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Chapter 28 - A Builder’s Burden
🕑 Added 2025-03-13 21:00:06 +0000 UTCAthan woke up groggily, feeling the familiar weight of exhaustion pressing down on him. His body ached from a restless night, his limbs stiff and numb from being wedged between Lara and Kali. Both girls had latched onto him unconsciously, shifting and pressing closer each time he tried to move, their warmth turning the space into a suffocating trap. He had spent much of the night awake, repositioning himself over and over, only for them to instinctively cling to him again. The fleeting moments of sleep he managed were shallow, broken by the occasional murmur or movement from either side. When morning finally arrived, his eyes felt heavy, his body sluggish, though at least the exhaustion wasn't quite as overwhelming as the day before.
After their usual morning routine of washing up sleep. Athan set off to check on the kiln where he had created his first batch of cement. As he neared the site, he came to an abrupt stop, his gaze locking onto a large, neatly stacked pile of wet wood. He blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Lara must have hauled it over before the rain, likely with Kali's help. The realization sent a quiet warmth through him, a small but profound sense of appreciation settling in his chest. They had thought ahead, anticipating what he needed without him even asking. It was a simple act, yet it meant more to him than he could explain.
Turning his attention to the kiln itself, his appreciation dimmed as his eyes took in the damage. The structure had not fared well against the rain. Composed mostly of stones held in place by dried mud, the downpour had weakened its foundation, causing parts of it to collapse. With a weary sigh, he knelt down and began the careful process of removing the scattered stones, setting them aside for later reuse. The damp earth clung to his fingers, the scent of wet soil thick in the air. As he cleared away the debris, his mind worked through potential solutions, already forming ideas on how to reinforce the kiln to withstand future storms.
His thoughts drifted back to the struggles he had faced during his first attempt at cement-making. He had relied almost entirely on his hands, using a simple branch when possible, but even that had been ineffective. The rough texture and chemical properties of the cement mixture had scraped his palms raw, leaving his hands painfully red and swollen. This time, he would be better prepared.
Determined to change that, once finish with cleaning the area, he retrieved several sturdy branches he had previously set aside. Settling onto a nearby rock, he began whittling them into tools, each one taking shape with careful precision. Some were meant for stirring and mixing, their ends flattened to push through the thick cement. Others were sharpened to fine points, ideal for spreading and smoothing. As he carved, he recalled every minor inconvenience from his last attempt, tweaking his designs to counter each problem. The rhythmic motion of his blade against the wood was soothing, a quiet focus settling over him as he worked.
Once satisfied, he turned his attention to the pile of wood meant for the next batch. Running his fingers along the surface, he frowned. The rain had soaked deeper than he had expected. Damp wood would be inefficient, smoldering and producing more smoke than heat. He would have to wait a few more days before the kiln could be used again.
For now, there was nothing more he could do. He exhaled slowly, stepping back to take in his work. Even with the setbacks, things were moving forward. The foundation was there, the tools were ready, and with a little more patience, he would be able to start again—this time, better prepared.
Moving on, he walked over to where the girls were still flipping the bricks, their hands moving in a steady rhythm as they checked each one. Lara wiped sweat from her brow, adjusting a few bricks to ensure they were properly exposed to the air, while Kali, crouched beside her, hummed softly as she worked. The rhythmic sound of bricks being flipped and replace filled the air, blending with the occasional chirping of birds in the distance.
Athan approached them, taking a moment to inspect the wooden drying structure supporting the bricks. Running his fingers along the beams he had made, he felt the rough grain of the wood and pressed lightly against a few sections, ensuring they held up well under the weight. Satisfied that everything was in order, he adjusted two or three large leaves that had been displaced by the wind, making sure they continued shielding the bricks from direct sunlight and unexpected moisture. He gave a small nod of approval before stepping back, the previous brick had some crack forming, having been dried too quickly by the sun.
As he straightened up, he took a deep breath and let his thoughts settle. His next step needed careful planning. He turned on his heel and made his way toward the cement slab, his wooden shoes crunching softly against the dry soil. As he neared, he crouched down, running his fingertips along the hardened surface. A week had passed since he had poured the base, and by eye alone, he could tell that it had started to cure properly. Yet, doubts crept into his mind—was it truly strong enough to support construction soon? He pressed his palm against the cement, feeling its rough yet firm texture. It was drying well, but without proper testing, he wouldn't know for sure if it could hold the weight he intended.
His gaze shifted toward the neatly stacked beams and planks nearby. The wood was arranged with care, protected from excessive moisture but still exposed enough to continue drying. Progress was steady, and if things continued at this pace, he estimated that in about a week, he could finally begin assembling everything. The materials were close to being ready. The only remaining step would be the precise cutting and fitting of each piece, ensuring they all locked together like a massive puzzle, forming a stable structure. The thought made him exhale, anticipation building inside him. Soon, the settlement would have its first true permanent structures.
Turning toward the cement base intended for the toilet, he crouched again, running his hand along its surface. The hardening process was evident here as well, though he knew that this section was incomplete. The first batch of cement had not been enough to extend all the way to the river as planned. He traced a finger along the edge where the cement ended, picturing how the rest of the path would connect. He would need to wait for the second batch before he could complete the foundation properly.
Sighing, the boy stood up, stretching his sore muscles from the long day's work. Every movement awakened a dull ache in his arms and back, a testament to the effort he had exerted over the past few days. His hands were rough, covered in a fine layer of dust and tiny splinters that he barely noticed anymore. He rolled his shoulders, wincing slightly at the stiffness that had settled deep into his muscles.
He made his way to his parents' shelter, where most of his belongings were still kept. As he passed by the shelter he now shared with Kali and Lara, he cast a glance at it. The place looked more cluttered than he would have liked. Stacks of dry wood for the fire and tools he had made filled the small space, making it clear that he would soon need to clear things out. He sighed. Finding space to store everything was becoming more of a challenge than expected.
Grabbing the miniature model of the house frame he intended to build, he carried it over to the cement and stone slab he had prepared. He studied it from different angles, analyzing the weight distribution and beam arrangement before carefully dismantling it, piece by piece. Each element of the miniature model was a blueprint for the full-scale version he aimed to construct. The wooden joints, though small, mimicked the exact interlocking system he wanted to use on the real beams. As he set the pieces down, his mind ran through possible adjustments—where he might need additional reinforcement, which sections needed more precise fitting.
Once disassembled, he examined each piece with care, ensuring that his idea was feasible with the materials available. His gaze then shifted to the square-cut beams that the members of the clan had painstakingly shaped. They were stacked nearby, protected from moisture by large leaves. The longest ones would serve as horizontal beams, while the shorter ones would be used as vertical Column. The wood was solid but still had traces of moisture clinging to it. He ran his fingers along the grain, feeling the rough texture beneath his fingertips, judging which pieces were ready for use and which needed more time to dry, most of them had actual traces of moisture since they did not have the time to wait months for it to dry. They would had to do for now.
Estimating the diameters by eye, he approached the three men still working on cutting wood and requested their help in moving some of the beams he planned to use. The men nodded, setting down their tools before heaving the heavy pieces onto their shoulders. Each step was slow and measured, the weight of the logs pressing their feet deeper into the dirt. Athan directed them precisely, ensuring the beams were placed near the future structure but outside the foundation slab, which had not yet fully cured. Each beam thudded against the ground as it was placed, the vibrations traveling up his legs as he stood nearby. Slowly, the construction site began to take a more defined shape.
With all the beams selected and positioned, he got to work. Taking a straight branch about a meter in length and a rope of the same size, he started measuring what was needed for assembly. He stretched the rope between two points, double-checking the alignment before marking where he needed to cut. He pressed down on the wood, ensuring it was level, before securing it with small wooden pegs to keep it from shifting. Wanting the structure to be as uniform as possible, he meticulously recorded his calculations in a new notebook made from previous form bark paper, using his miniature model as a reference. After a long period of deliberation and adjustments, he reached a conclusion on the dimensions he could establish with the available materials. It quickly became clear that several beams would need to be reshaped and that he would have to adjust the height and width gaps in certain sections of the future house.
To ensure precise cuts, he used a long rope soaked in a mixture of charcoal and water. Tying a stone to one end for stability, he snapped it against the beams, leaving crisp, dark lines to guide his cuts. He repeated the process carefully, ensuring each marking was perfectly aligned before proceeding. Then, armed with his hatchet, he carefully followed the previously marked measurements and began cutting the beams to the necessary lengths. The dull thud of wood yielding under his strikes echoed through the air, accompanied by the sharp crack of fibers splitting apart with each blow. Each cut sent a faint scent of fresh sap into the air, mixing with the earthy aroma of the ground beneath him.
The work was exhausting. Each swing of the hatchet sent splinters flying around him, some sticking to his sweat-dampened arms and face. His fingers ached from gripping the tool for so long, and his shoulders burned with effort. At regular intervals, he paused to check his angles, wipe the sweat from his brow, and ensure everything aligned with his plans. The sunlight slowly dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the construction site as he pressed on tirelessly. The sounds of the camp had quieted as evening approached, leaving only the rhythmic echo of his chopping and the occasional crackling of the fire nearby.
This single step for the column took the rest of the day. As the work progressed, exhaustion crept through his body, but seeing the precisely cut column lined up around the site filled him with a deep sense of satisfaction. Every piece placed was another step closer to his goal. Slowly but surely, his project was taking shape, and he knew that soon, the frame of the village's first house would finally stand before him. He exhaled, rolling his stiff shoulders as he took in the sight before him. The foundation was almost ready, the column prepared. It was only a matter of time now before he would see the first true structure of the village rise from the ground.
Leaving most of his tools on the foundation, Athan decided to check the condition of the fields. As he walked across the cultivated plots, he noticed that while the soil wasn't completely dry, the plants had absorbed much of the morning's water, leaving the earth slightly less moist than before. The leaves of some crops looked a bit less firm, signaling they could use a bit more hydration. Without hesitation, he made his way to the watering system, activating it to provide additional moisture to the growing plants. The soft gurgling of water spreading through the channels was a satisfying sound, the damp earth releasing a faint, rich aroma as it absorbed the liquid.
Taking advantage of the flowing water, he splashed some on his face and arms, washing away the layer of sweat and dust that clung to his skin. The cooling sensation was a relief, a fleeting moment of comfort after the exhausting labor of the day. He ran his wet fingers through his hair, shaking off the excess droplets before wiping his hands against his pants. Despite his fatigue, he felt reassured knowing the crops would have what they needed to continue growing strong.
Working like this brought a deep sense of fulfillment—it satisfied the man within him, the builder, the provider. But his body, still growing, often struggled to keep up with the demands he placed upon it. Fatigue clung to him like a weight, each movement slower than the last. The combined strain of the day's work and the restless nights before had drained him completely. Deciding he had done enough, he resolved to eat dinner and let the others continue their evening activities without him. The small project he had started the previous night would have to wait—his body demanded rest.
Once the fields were properly watered, he shut off the system for the night and made his way toward the forming dinner line. Lara had already called the group to gather, and the smell of the meal wafting through the air only reinforced his decision to stop working. Sitting on the ground with his bowl, he waited for the two girls to join him. Once they were settled, they began to eat, the warmth of the food helping to ease some of his exhaustion.
Lara and Kali were engaged in a lively discussion, their voices weaving in and out of Athan's consciousness as his tired mind drifted.
He wasn’t fully following their conversation, his focus slipping in and out, until something Lara said caught his attention.
Their talk had started with excitement about the fish trap’s success.
"Three fish today!" Kali grinned, holding up three fingers as she took another bite of her meal.
"More than before."
Lara nodded, pleased.
"Yes. Trap work well. Water move fish inside, they no get out."
Kali tilted her head.
"We make more?"
Lara chewed thoughtfully before responding.
"Maybe. But need more hands. One trap good, but many? Need check every day."
Kali sighed.
"Hmm, true. Maybe later."
She took another bite, then glanced toward the hunters, who sat in the distance, unusually quiet.
Her brows furrowed.
"Hunting not good?"
Lara followed her gaze and frowned slightly.
"No. Men not happy. Say animals run before they get close."
Kali scrunched her nose.
"Spears no good?"
Lara shook her head.
"Too slow. Too loud. Same with bolas."
Kali thought for a moment, then shrugged.
"Then... need new way."
Athan, despite his fatigue, found himself focusing on their words. The hunters' struggles had been an ongoing problem, but now that it was being discussed so openly, he felt the gears in his mind, though dulled by exhaustion, slowly beginning to turn.
They could start making traps or developing a new weapon—something silent. The bow and arrow immediately came to mind, but accuracy with such a weapon required extensive training. It would take time, patience, and consistent practice before it became an effective tool for hunting. Still, if they started now, even with simple bows, they could begin improving sooner rather than later.
Athan sighed, running a hand through his hair. It was yet another task added to his growing list, but tonight, he was too exhausted to even think about starting it. His limbs felt heavy, his mind clouded with fatigue. The bow would have to wait until tomorrow.
When the time came, he would select wood from the supply they already had, looking for the most flexible pieces that could be shaped into a proper bow. For the string, he would use the cords made by Nat—widely regarded as the best rope maker in the clan. With those materials, he could craft a solid prototype. His father or Ok could observe the process, learning how to replicate it for the others. But that was a problem for another day.
Athan finished his bowl, setting it down with a quiet sigh. His limbs felt heavier by the minute, exhaustion creeping deeper into his muscles. He glanced at the two girls, offering a small, tired smile.
"I'm too tired tonight," he murmured, rubbing his eyes. "I'm going to sleep early. You two enjoy the evening—don't worry about me. Let the others have their fun."
Lara gave him a knowing look but didn't argue, while Kali tilted her head slightly before nodding in understanding. As the warmth of the fire flickered around them and the distant chatter of the clan filled the night air, Athan pushed himself up from the ground, stretching before making his way toward the shelter, eager for the rest his body desperately needed.
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As Athan stood up and walked away, heading toward the shelter with slow, tired steps, Lara and Kali remained seated, watching him disappear into the dim evening light.
Lara frowned slightly, stirring the last bits of food in her bowl absentmindedly.
"He work too much," she muttered, mostly to herself.
Kali, who had been watching Athan closely, nodded.
"Yes. Always doing… more. Not stop."
Lara exhaled, crossing her arms.
"He not listen when tired. Just push, push."
Kali glanced at the shelter, tilting her head.
"He still young. Not need work so hard."
Lara sighed.
"Yes… but what we do? We help. Water fields, turn bricks, pull weeds, make food… but rest? We not know what he do."
Kali frowned, thinking.
"Yes. We not know. He make many things. Not like work we know. We watch, copy… but he always do more."
Lara pressed her lips together, frustrated.
"We try take work away, but he find new work! More work! He not stop!"
Kali huffed, crossing her arms.
"More we do, more he do. That not fair."
Lara shook her head, her gaze returning to the shelter where Athan had disappeared.
"Not fair… but he not see. He think… must do everything."
Kali grumbled.
"He stubborn."
Lara smirked slightly.
"Yes."
Kali sighed, leaning back on her hands.
"Tomorrow, we help again. Maybe one day… he stop."
Lara wasn’t convinced Athan would ever truly slow down, but she nodded.
They couldn’t stop him, but they could at least make sure he wasn’t doing everything alone.
Even if it meant working twice as hard just to keep up with him.
The two girls sat in silence for a while, the sounds of the evening settling around them.
Athan may have been stubborn, but they were just as determined to keep trying—even if his endless work continued to confuse them.
The girls stood up, gathering the bowls and the cooking pot to clean them before joining the others for their writing practice. Sitting among the group, they resumed their lessons, drawing letters in the dirt with sticks, their fingers occasionally brushing against the rough soil as they adjusted their lines. Their voices rose in quiet excitement as they sounded out each letter, blending them together to form words. Lara pressed her stick more firmly into the ground, tracing over her work with confidence, while Kali, biting her lip in concentration, carefully copied the shapes beside her. Slowly, the mysterious symbols were beginning to take shape in their minds, connecting to the spoken language they already knew, their newfound ability feeling almost magical in its secrecy.
Lara, more confident, helped Kali with the trickier combinations, repeating sounds and demonstrating how to join them into full words. Kali, though struggling at times, was visibly determined, her brows furrowing as she carefully mimicked Lara's strokes. Bit by bit, they were grasping the ability to put thoughts into writing, their enthusiasm growing with each success.
What had once been mere markings on wood or earth was now becoming something more—a way to share ideas in silence, a hidden meaning only those who understood could decipher. The realization thrilled them, fueling their eagerness to learn more.
But one question still lingered—how had Athan created this? The concept itself felt overwhelming, almost frightening. The idea of inventing writing, something so vast and powerful, was beyond their understanding. How could a boy so young have done this? And not just this—everything he made, things he had never seen before, yet somehow knew how to create how to use. It was as if something greater than them was at work, guiding him in ways they couldn't comprehend.
For Kali, Athan was most likely a wielder of magic. She had only ever seen such unexplainable power once before, in the only Elder of her previous clan who had seemed to bend the world to his will. He could change the color of flames simply by tossing a bit of powder into the fire—turning them from yellow to blue-green, and then to violet. He had once "stolen the moon" from the sky, only to return it a bit later, a trick Kali never understood. He could bring fire back to life with just his breath, as if commanding the elements themselves.
Lara had already shown her some of Athan's creations—the strange objects he had made that could summon fire in a couple minute. That alone had left her in awe. Everything the boy did felt magical, as if he possessed knowledge no one else had. It was part of the reason she had decided, she wanted Athan as her partner. If she stayed by his side, she would witness many more wonders, and perhaps, understand the mysteries he carried within him.
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The next morning, Athan woke up feeling well-rested. Having gone to bed earlier, he had fallen asleep before the girls joined him. By the time they had settled in, he was already in a deep slumber, undisturbed by their movements and warmth. His arms still ached from the previous day's work, but he knew he had to push forward today. Rising carefully so as not to wake them, he smirked slightly, realizing they hadn't used his arms as pillows this time.
Glancing at Lara and Kali still sleeping peacefully, he felt fortunate to have them by his side. The girls helped immensely, lightening his workload and contributing to the clan's progress. Thanks to them, he didn't have to manage the fields, bricks, and food all on his own. Of course, he could delegate these tasks to other members of the group, but he trusted them—Lara and Kali had already proven their reliability.
After stretching, he left the shelter and headed toward the irrigation system, activating the water flow. As the fresh stream began filling the channels, he took the opportunity to splash some on his face, letting the coolness wash away the lingering drowsiness. The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp soil and fresh leaves, the quiet hum of nature filling the space around him, even if they had cut most of the tree inside the walls.
Observing the fields as the water trickled through the trenches, he analyzed the state of the crops. In the first field, the plants had developed broad leaves, their creeping vines beginning to latch onto the support poles he had planted. They looked sturdy and healthy, standing in contrast to the neighboring field. The second field contained plants that had already climbed their supports, some even stretching toward neighboring poles, their thin stems and small green leaves resembling vines. He ran his fingers across a few leaves, feeling their texture and checking for any signs of damage.
In the third field, the plants had straightened after the rain, resuming their growth and spreading long, grass-like leaves. He recalled that their seeds had been small and round, resembling grain, which made him wonder—could he turn them into flour? Maybe even make bread? The thought intrigued him, and he made a mental note to experiment once the harvest was ready.
The fifth and sixth fields contained plants he recognized from his past life, though the retrieved grains differed slightly from what he was accustomed to. He chose not to make assumptions and decided to wait until harvest time for proper analysis. While inspecting the fifth field, he noticed that some areas still seemed less dense than they should have been. It was clear that, before he had set up the scarecrow, birds had already stolen a portion of the seeds, resulting in fewer plants growing in certain spots. Fortunately, the scarecrow had since done its job well, keeping pests away and allowing the remaining crops to grow undisturbed. As he bent down to check the soil's firmness and moisture level, he felt a sense of relief—this time, there were no new losses. The fields were thriving, and for now, there was no need to worry.
Closing the water supply, he made his way to the dismantled kiln. Running his fingers along the wood, he checked its dryness. The pieces on top had started to dry, but those underneath still retained moisture. Addressing the problem, he picked up several pieces and propped them upright against the cliffside, arranging them so that the sun and wind would accelerate the drying process. As he worked, he estimated how long it would take before the wood would be ready for use—likely two more days if the weather stayed clear.
Satisfied with his adjustments, he turned his attention to the shelter where the bricks were drying. There, he found Lara and Kali diligently flipping the bricks to ensure an even drying process. Their focused effort brought a sense of appreciation to him, and he offered them a small smile before making his way toward the foundation where he had left his tools the day before.
